


Stress Relief

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Multi, Sub Hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 23:38:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10685253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Hux's lovers team up to help him unwind.





	Stress Relief

Hux knows something is up the minute he walks through the door. Phasma might have mastered the art of bluffing, but Kylo has more tells than a freaking five year old. The Knight does that guilty little startle, and smiles _slightly_ too forced at him.

“Kylo, what are– HEY!”

Two arms wrap around him from behind, and Phasma (he assumes it’s her, who else would dare) leans back. She’s only a few inches taller than him, but she’s also got ridiculous core strength, and Hux immediately leans forwards, his legs free-wheeling in an attempt to get loose. It’s instinctual, long-drilled into him (and long-needed, though the memories grow more distant with every year.)

“Your presence is required,” Phasma says in his ear, in a tone that brooks no argument.   


Hux still doesn’t like being manhandled, and he makes himself a dead weight in her arms. “And you couldn’t have just _asked_?”

“It isn’t that kind of arrangement,” Kylo replies, rising.   


“This is ridiculous,” Hux snaps, as Phasma squeezes harder, pressing his arms to his sides.  


He knows if he _really_ objected that she would stop. Of course he knows that. It’s part of their love-play, and there’s a definite dark undercurrent to his blood right now, flooding him with a keen longing. The idea of being _helpless_ , of being utterly ouf of control…

He shouldn’t like it. He shouldn’t _crave_ it. He’s the **General**. He has to stay in control at all times. He has to be ready to make the Big Decisions at a moment’s notice. He has to…

Kylo’s fingers start with his collar, unfastening the buttons, sliding beneath to stroke over the front of his throat. His eyes slide almost shut at the tantalising promise-threat of it, and he sucks air through his teeth as the Knight keeps up the painfully-slow undressing. 

“You’ve been very stressed,” his Captain tells him, her stance unwavering.  


He’s just held still, with his shirt undone to the collarbones, and he’s coming apart at the thought, at the _promise._ Oh, but he wants to give in. He wants it so badly, and he feels his face blaze with embarrassment at his weakness. 

“We’re going to help you burn through some of that stress.”  


“I could do more if you let me go,” he suggests.  


“No,” Phasma insists, and strides with him in front of her.   


Long legs make short work of the distance, and then he’s thrown, face-first, down onto the bed. His hands barely break his fall (though a little smushed nose into the mattress isn’t the end of the galaxy), but then there’s hands on his hips, hefting his rump upwards.

Hux yelps, trying to get his legs back to himself, then feels one hand push on the back of his neck, and a hand under his belly pretty much immobilising him. His fingers claw at the bed, but the belt on his pants is now undone, and the fabric pushed down to his knees.

He’s still half-dressed, and he _wants this_. He wants it so much, but he can’t allow himself to have it… can he? His head turns (painfully, under the hand) and he sees Kylo’s expression. It’s so intent, so intense. Dark brows furrowed, full lips parted to the tiniest poke of a tongue. Their eyes meet, and Kylo gives him just the slightest of smiles. 

“Let us do this for you,” Kylo whispers, and the thumb (his) on his nape strokes soothing, slow circles.   


Hux is utterly humiliated, held down by his colleagues, his ass and balls displayed, and he… he…

“We’ll make it good,” Phasma promises.  


Yes. Yes. He wants it so badly. He wants - on some level - the illusion of no control. He has fantasised oh so many nights about being taken ‘against’ his will, and this - with his consent - is precisely what he’s always longed for, and never put into words.

The tiniest of nods - needing the illusion to hold in silence - and then he feels cold, sticky fingers between his legs. The first finger goes in a bit quicker than Phasma normally does it, but it isn’t painful. It’s just surprising to feel the cold lube on her warm finger, and the way she rolls the pad of her digit around inside him, stroking him where only these two have ever been allowed.

Kylo uses his hand to reach for his balls, pressing below them and pushing them and his cock upwards, up to his belly, keeping them out of the way. They’re heavy and full, and he fights a moan at the gentle stimulus, resisting the urge to rut into his hand like the desperate animal he is. 

Two fingers. Her hands are long, and she strokes so deeply inside of him that it coaxes a moan from his throat, and that gets him a sudden _come hither_ inside, that nearly _does_ make him come. She’s glancing over his prostate, and he claws harder at the bedding, spreading his legs wider in open invitation. Her fingers push deeper, and he chokes another sound.

“Are you good and open for her?” Kylo asks, with more lasciviousness in his voice than a freaking Academy full of sex-crazed teens.  


Hux refuses to answer, glaring at him.

“Are you?” he pushes again, and there’s the feeling of the air getting heavy and dark, the pressure on his temples that he knows is Kylo _cheating_.  


Cheating. And there’s still a fear in Hux about that, because it’s more than play. Or it is play, but it’s something he genuinely can’t control. Against the Force, he is utterly helpless, and it’s suddenly edging on _too much_ like the real thing.

Kylo seems to sense it, and he pushes his fingers into his hair, stroking his scalp, as the thickness eases, scraped away like honey dragged over toast. The tightness in his chest unravels, just as the fingers withdraw. 

“He’s there,” Phasma says.  


Hux can’t see, but he can hear. He hears the sounds of skin and fabric, of metal and leather. He smells more lube, and then he feels the press of… oh. _Fuck_.

Phasma’s used a strapon on Kylo before, but not on him. He’s gone down on her ‘cock’, but Kylo’s the only one who’s fucked him, and he’s suddenly tense again. What if it’s too much? Too fast? Too hard? Is it really fun for her? Can she actually get off on sliding it into him, even if she does have her own part of the toy? 

Not to mention the prospect of being fucked by someone who _isn’t male_ is… weirdly transgressive. The toy slaps a few times, and then she pushes it slowly into him. 

Kylo’s hand on his neck, on his tackle, and two on his hips. He’s held between them, held _down,_ yes, but also just **held**. He needs it to be harder than this, but he’s not stupid enough to thrash. He could injure himself, and maybe he should have fought more, before? He needs - suddenly - to run. His legs want to run. He needs to make his body act out the tension that’s mounting, and as she glides the toy (wide, long) into him, he begs Kylo with his eyes for something he doesn’t even understand.

_Help me. Help me. Please. Help me._

Kylo moves, then, and his legs climb onto the bed. The hand on his cock and balls moves, and they drop with a jolt that makes him tense around the toy inside. He wanted _more_ , not less, and he’s about to scold when he sees Kylo’s hands opening his _own_ clothing, pushing aside fabric, pulling his full cock out. 

It’s a gorgeous cock. Longer than his, just, but maybe only as wide, or less. Full and flushed, the lines of blood under the surface a tempting map for him to trace. Hux opens his mouth at once, expecting the swipe of cockhead over his lips, whining when he doesn’t get more. 

“Shhhh,” Phasma chides, and thrusts in so hard he sees stars.  


Kylo grabs his jaw, his fingers and thumbs pressing into the join, forcing his mouth to stay open. The pain is beautiful, but better is the sudden, salty shaft pushing over his tongue. He laves and licks, trying not to get too slobbery, and then feels a strange sort of peacefulness as Kylo starts to fuck his mouth, sliding down over his tongue. 

The two of them find a rhythm, and Hux surges between them, lost in the pleasure from them both, enjoying the way he’s stuffed from both ends. 

“Good little slut,” Kylo teases, fucking deeper into his throat.   


It means a little more work to relax around it at this angle, and his mouth is filling with saliva from his inability to properly swallow, but the sticky mess around his mouth somehow makes him harder. His cock flaps uselessly under him, desperate for attention, but he can wait. It can wait. It can…

“I’m nice and wet, now. I think it’s time…” Kylo pulls out, leaving Hux’s mouth empty.  


Hux pouts, turning his head away so they can’t see how upset he is, but then Phasma slips out from inside him, and Kylo sits at his head, then slides forcibly down, to lie on his back under Hux. He grabs his cock, and then Hux understands. He angles his hips to let Kylo push into him, enjoying the way the skin-to-skin contact is, compared to the toy. His cock presses deep inside, and Hux grunts when he’s held still.

“Please, for the love of–”  


Phasma pushes another finger into him, and his eyes go wide. Does she… does she really?

Kylo’s hands knot over his neck, and he shudders as Phasma penetrates him digitally, spreading him around the cock that’s inside. It’s tight, and he’s never… Kylo has, but Hux hasn’t. Can he really fit them both in?

“I’m not sure–” he blurts.  


“I’ll go slow,” Phasma reassures him, her other hand rubbing at the base of his spine. “Relax. It will feel good.”  


“It _will_ ,” Kylo insists. “Very. Very good.”  


“…okay.” Okay. He can do this. He can… there’s three fingers, and it’s like that time Kylo put most of his hand inside him. It had felt a bit too much, but right now… Hux wants this. He wants them both inside of him at once. He wants them to take the last bit of resistance from his body, and he bears down on the fingers, gasping over Kylo’s face.  


The fingers leave, and the toy presses at his hole. It goes in easier than he expected, and it - sort of? a bit? stings… but mostly it feels good, and like something in his head snaps back together. Hux holds Kylo’s shoulders, panting as she starts to move, and each thrust pushes things around deeper in than she’s touching. A hand around his waist, stroking at his cock, though it’s almost not needed, because the way he’s being pounded is so good, so, so good, and he wants to last, he does.

“ _Please_ ,” he begs, hoping they know what he needs.  


Fingernails in the back of his neck, and a firm tongue in his mouth. More kisses to his shoulder, and a pace that he can’t keep up with. It makes his balls tense, and he’s so close, so close… 

“Come for us,” Phasma growls - _commands_ \- right by his ear.  


The order is enough, and Hux feels the climax coming from deep inside. It’s like his whole core clenches, and pushes the spurts from his balls, painting his release all over Kylo’s belly. He’s lost in the grinding, and then he feels Kylo’s climax suddenly flood his passage, making him feel pleasantly full, satisfied and fucked-out. 

Phasma grinds a few more times, then pulls the toy out, and pushes Hux down to lie flat on Kylo, their bodies still united. If she’s come, he doesn’t know, but he lies his head on Kylo’s chest and watches as the Knight bends fingers to call for her, ready to sink his hand between her legs. 

Kylo grasps her fake cock, and strokes it a few times before he starts to use it to fuck the inner parts into her, the wet sounds of her sex swallowing it whole, and then she’s grinding into the hilt of it, her mouth finding Hux’s, pushing her cries into his throat. He’s glad he knows she’s satisfied, because it means he can relax. 

And… he realises he is. He’s relaxing. The fingers on his neck, the kisses to his lips. The feel of Kylo’s cock, but the slightly empty place where Phasma had been. He’s loose-limbed and the need to run is gone, leaving him with the need to just… curl up and breathe. 

Soft breasts against his arm. His lovers kissing each other, and quiet words of love and care. He feels… floaty… hazy… peace.


End file.
